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I will concede here and now the privileging of digital images over the physical representation of ideas, desires and ambitions. From this day on I repudiate my faith in printed objects for the purpose of advertising, or for collateral, or promotions.

As of yesterday, March 27, 2016, my attachment to paper has exceeded its shelf life. Yes, I played the fool for too long. I have tossed my printed words and denounce the media that confined them as completely as the bars of the cage that tore the heart out of Rilke’s panther.

To say I’m disappointed would not be entirely accurate. I had few expectations. But still I felt compelled to ask, all this, for that?

I suppose as an exercise the sampling had some merit —even a touch of poetry.

Yes, a little merit—no more than that which was demanded—as we’re talking about the side-street wall of a commercial building, which no one takes much notice of as they pass—almost always talking or texting. There was no intent to add anything of note or anything decorative on the wall. The building itself is notable only for its mass and a few Art Deco decorations, which are, or so I’ve observed, largely unnoticed.

Nevertheless, as I walked passed the building on my way to the bank or to the post office or to the # 1 train, I enjoyed the pleasure of observing and documenting something of the work of serious minded men and women.

A cinematic fantasia? A salute to modernity? A hyper-kinetic montage of Berlin life, circa 1927? What is revealed and what is hidden in a seemingly naturalistic rendering of a modern city?

A train appears out of nowhere and I am immediately filled with a sense of dread. It is an eerie feeling—an emotion at the opposite end of the spectrum that I imagine the filmmaker hoped to stimulate in his audience. I could not separate the images on the screen from a flurry of others that simultaneously rushed my mind’s eye. Images recalled from countless feature films, documentaries and photographs. This made it impossible for me to share in Ruttman’s delight in acceleration—toward what are we accelerating? Nor could I sit back and equate the speed and power of a locomotive simply with new perceptions and sensations of modern life. I could not read the train’s (and with it the audience’s) passage from rural to suburban to urban center as a metaphor for the civilizing power of industrialization. No. German trains of that particular era, hurling through space, can only have Auschwitz as their ultimate destination. Continue reading “Berlin Symphony: Fantasia or Fantasy”→

Change of cosmic proportions. The center of that center was St. Marks Place, and at the Center of St. Marks Place was a store called Limbo.

Marty (Limbo) Freedman and I have toyed with the idea of telling this story in various media and recently had conversations with two sets of TV and movie producers. They were excited by the idea of a show built around Limbo, and its cast of authentic characters, who individually and collectively define the mores and practices of the 60s. There was serious talk but also disagreement about how to proceed.

These “meetings,” not to be confused with happenings, led Marty and me to believe the time to tell this story has come, and we want to reach out to producers who have a passion for the 60s, the most passionate decade of modern times.

We want to tell a true story, in an episodic format, about some very funny, sexy, brilliant, curious, serious, strange, far-out, wasted, obscure, and also celebrated people who wanted to change everything, starting with the clothes on their back.

Curious? To learn more, visit Limbo St. Marks’ Facebook page here, or its Wikipedia page here, and if something clicks, contact us here.

Anyone can admire a photograph of a well known, highly regarded, Global Creative Officer holding up his copy of American Lullaby. But are you one of the few with the wit, charm and wherewithal to acquire your own copy?

That’s really the question, isn’t it. Get your copy today and then send me a picture of you with it, along with the name of a favorite poem or two or lines that set your brain tingling or heart pumping.

“Hong Kong Harbor, 1984”
Alternately titled, “From This Side of the Window”
Composed and Arranged by Philip White
Based on a poem by Robert A. Sawyer
Performed by Angel City Chorale
Soloist: Julie Athas